From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Tactile
I’m hunched over the hardwood floor, my fingers raw from shuffling these stiff, linen-finished Rook cards until the edges bite. My sister is nearby at the piano, incessantly hammering out "School Days" by Will Cobb & Gus Edwards; if I have to hear that sugary tune about the golden rule one more time, I think I’ll scream. My word, the scratch of my high-collared cotton shirt is enough to drive a boy mad while he’s trying to concentrate on his winning hand. I’d much rather be outside watching the sun spark off the chrome of a passing motorcar than trapped in this parlor.